Of Vong and Imperials
by Voltaire1
Summary: A story of the struggle for survival against the Yuuzhan Vong. First segment focuses on an Imperial Commander and his ship. All reviews are appreciated.


Title: Of Vong and Imperials  
  
Setting: Towards the beginning of the New Jedi Order series, approximately 25 years after Star Wars: A New Hope.  
  
Rating: PG, possibly 13 in later chapters  
  
Disclaimer: Most of these characters are my own creation. Obviously, I do not own the concept, idea, name, etc. They are all property of King George the L. I am not profiting from this work of fiction.  
  
Author's Note: My first published fan-fiction. I decided to delve into Imperial/Yuuzhan Vong side of the story; an angle not well explored. All reviews are greatly appreciated. Enjoy.  
  
  
  
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The stars stretched to an immeasurable length, then slowly shrank back to reality as the massive Star Destroyer Leviathan reverted to realspace. From his place at the starboard viewport on the bridge, Imperial Commander Eliah Davenal gazed entranced at the spectacle. The flare of an explosion quickly brought his attention back to the present.  
  
"Lieutenant! What was that?" Davenal was known for being harsh with his crew and his tone towards Lieutenant Salayir was none too friendly.  
  
"Unknown, sir." The young man's reply came back in a wavering voice, indicating his fear.  
  
"Sir, I'm picking up multiple contacts about 3 klicks out." Lt. Meid leaned over to allow the Commander a clear view of his board.  
  
Davenal glanced down at the screen. "Can you tell me what they are?"  
  
"No, sir, we're too far out. Perhaps we should move in closer."  
  
The Commander's eyes flared. "I did not ask for your opinion, Lieutenant. Captain, move us into sensor range."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Davenal slumped into his command chair, watching the scene unfold through the forward viewport. His gray hair betrayed an otherwise youthful appearance; years of service to the Empire finally beginning to show up in his face. Although the Empire itself was weakened and a reluctant member of the New Republic, loyal officers such as Davenal still saw it their duty to perform routine scouting and patrol missions. This excursion into the outer regions was the farthest Leviathan had ventured from Imperial space in many months.  
  
"Sir, I'm reading several small X-wing class contacts, presumed New Republic-"  
  
"I did not ask for a briefing on snubfighters, Lieutenant Meid. If you continue this insubordinance, I will have you removed from my ship. Now, continue." If there was one thing Davenal could not stand, it was over- enthusiastic recruits trying to lecture him.  
  
The young officer was practically shaking by this point. "There are also several fighter-sized profiles which have no match in our databanks."  
  
"Describe them." The Commander's icy tone could have frozen the very air through which it traveled.  
  
"Well, sir…they appear to be organic in construction. Its like nothing I've ever seen."  
  
The rest of the bridge prepared themselves for an outburst at this further offense by Meid, but, to their surprise, Davenal seemed to ignore it.  
  
"Very well. Communications, broadcast a message on all frequencies. Remind them that they are in restricted space and that-"  
  
"Sir! Incoming!"  
  
Several of the unidentified ships had broken off from the main skirmish and were on an intercept course towards the Leviathan. Captain Draek took the initiative at this point. "Shields up. All forward turbolaser batteries target but do not fire, repeat, target but do not fire until further notice. Lieutenant Wood, are they hailing us?"  
  
The communications officer glanced down at his console before responding. "No, sir. But we have picked up some transmissions from the Rebel…New Republic fighters."  
  
Draek took a deep breath. "Let me hear it."  
  
The voices heard over the comm unit were distorted and layered with static, yet still understandable. "Leviathan…this is…squadron, it was an ambush…leave immediately, the Vong…corralskippers…shields down…help-" The transmission cut off, leaving the bridge officers mystified.  
  
As Commander Davenal's mouth opened to give an order, the ship shook with an impact. Plasma bolts played like lightning up and down the hull. He turned to watch as a geyser of flame and components leapt out from within his ship's hull. Tearing his eyes from the devastation, he bellowed out commands "Hangar, launch all fighters. Guns, fire at will."  
  
"Commander I don't think-"  
  
"No, you don't, Lieutenant. Remove yourself from the bridge." If glares were lasers, Meid would have been a burnt husk.  
  
"Sir-"  
  
"That's an order, Meid!" Davenal was using the oblivious officer as a conduit for the emotions that had been building up within him.  
  
The sensor officer never got a chance to respond. A vicious tremor streaked up the ship, hurtling Meid against the bulkhead, snapping his neck. Davenal fell awkwardly, landing with his knee bent at a right angle from his body. Pieces of shrapnel from a shattered console ripped into his flesh. Warning klaxons bellowed as he cautiously eased himself up.  
  
"Captain!" he wheezed, "Give me an update on the situation."  
  
There was no reply.  
  
Davenal limped to the nearest living officer. "You there! Status!"  
  
"I'm alright sir-"  
  
"I don't care about you! Give me the status of my ship!"  
  
"Sorry, sir. It appears we've lost our main deflector shields. The computer is reporting nine, repeat, nine separate holes in the hull. We're leaking air, sir."  
  
"What about the engines?" Despite years of service as an officer in the Imperial Navy, Davenal was at a loss. He had never before seen so few of an enemy do so much damage in such a short amount of time.  
  
"I'll check," the officer, Corporal Gard Torin, replied as another tremor shook the ship. This time the lights flickered briefly, causing Commander Davenal to glance almost unnoticeably at the passage leading to the escape pods. "The sublights appear to be in working condition. The hyperdrive looks pretty bad, though. Engineering doesn't recommend a lot of stress on either."  
  
"What would they have me do? Sit here and let these vultures prey on our rotting carcass? Nonsense. How far out are we from the nearest Republic base?"  
  
Eliah waited as the younger man searched. As much as he wanted to stay and fight the intruders, he knew that with the damage Leviathan had already sustained, that was not an option. His best chance was to send out a general distress signal and hope that the New Republic military could respond in time.  
  
"Cirtor, sir," Torin said, "about 30 light-years out."  
  
"Blast!" Davenal cursed. "How did those fighters get out here then? Surely they did not jump in on their own?" While within the range of the fighters' hyperdrives, a journey of that duration in the cockpit of a snubfighter was not a pleasant experience.  
  
"Sensors…sensors indicate sufficient wreckage on the battle plain for a Republic Carrier-class gunship, sir."  
  
Another blast pummeled the Star Destroyer and this time, the lights did not come back on.  
  
"Why aren't we hitting them? All batteries, full fire power on those fighters."  
  
"Commander, the gunners report that their shots are on target, but have no visible effects. As if they were being sucked in by a black hole."  
  
"Preposterous!" Davenal was in a rage, with fear for his ship and his life. "What about our fighters?"  
  
"What few are left report the same, sir."  
  
"Very well," Davenal sighed, suddenly sobering, "Order emergency repairs to the hyperdrive, then alert the fighters that we are fleeing the area. They are to keep those fighters occupied until we are cleared."  
  
"You're abandoning the TIEs?"  
  
Davenal's rage was rekindled. "Are you questioning my order, Corporal?"  
  
"No, sir. It will be done."  
  
"Quickly, Corporal. Our lives are at stake. Lieutenant Wood?"  
  
The tall communications officer glanced up with a dazed expression on his face. Kayl Wood was relatively new on the Leviathan, fresh out of the Academy. His youth had been spent on Bilbringi, where he learned to fly as a child. He was relatively quiet compared with the rest of the crew, but when he did speak, the other officers usually found him worth listening to. After graduating near the top of his class, Wood had been transferred to Davenal's ship as communications officer. "Yes, sir?"  
  
In the old days, he would have had quite a career in front of him, Davenal thought to himself. A shame, to see such potential wasted. "Broadcast a general distress signal. All frequencies." A sudden flash of conscience hit him. "And recall the TIEs."  
  
"Yes, sir. What about the X-wings?"  
  
"The X-wings are gone. The fighters finished them off, but they just might have bought us enough time to escape." As he said this, one of the unknown fighters flashed past the bridge, in hot pursuit of two TIE-fighters. Davenal got his first good look at the aggressors that had done so much damage to his ship. They do look organic. Better not wait around to see more of them. "Helm, are we cleared to jump?"  
  
"Almost sir. The nav computer is having trouble computing a jump. There seems to be an unusual amount of gravitic disturbances." Calculating a jump into hyperspace was impossible in such an environment. The ship could not jump while in a gravitational field, usually from a planet or star. The tiny gravitic disturbances were enough that the nav computer could not plot a clear course.  
  
"Any connection between the disturbances and those fighters?"  
  
"Unknown, sir, but highly probable."  
  
Interesting. I'll have to study this later; if we make it out, that is. Davenal had studied under Thrawn for a time, and well appreciated the Grand Admiral's insightful tactics. Learning to study a culture, through not only its war but its art had been key in his rise to the position of Commander.  
  
A reflection of superheated metal brightened the dimly lit bridge, allowing him a chance to survey the situation. Several officers, including himself, were wounded, Meid and Draek were dead, and the ship was heavily damaged. Davenal resolved to order an evacuation when a shadow slowly eclipsed the ship. Too curious to turn away, and too frightened to move, all he could do was watch.  
  
It did not take long for him to find the source of the shadow; a massive starship, which dwarfed even the Leviathan slowly entered his plane of view. It was not a ship he recognized, although it was startlingly familiar to him. Try as he might, he could not recall from where.  
  
The more of the ship that was revealed to him, the less he understood it. It was huge, about 10 klicks long in his reckoning, but of an exotic design. It was organic in nature, though not as much as the mysterious fighters, nor as linear as the Mon Cal cruisers so beloved by the Rebels. The faint glimmer of a highly charged energy shield and the appearance of hundreds of what looked to Davenal like gun emplacements, led him to believe that this ship was ready for war. He watched in awe as it sleekly cut its way through the void of space.  
  
A cry from Lieutenant Wood broke the silence. "Sir, we're receiving a transmission from that…ship. It identifies itself as the Enigma. Request permission to acknowledge and play the transmission."  
  
"Granted, Lieutenant." Davenal was intrigued. So far the fighters had made no attempt at contact with Leviathan. Was this ship here to finish him or rescue him? "Let's hear it."  
  
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There it is; the first section anyway. I've already begun the next part, so be patient and please review.  
  
Yours,  
  
Voltaire 


End file.
